


The Family Stark

by sansapotter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Holidays, Marriage Proposal, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 03:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15809955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansapotter/pseuds/sansapotter
Summary: Written for the Jonsa Exchange: Inspired by Film and it's inspired by The Family Stone.“We dated for a while before we really talked about logistics.” Sansa continued, “we never talked about when it would happen. I always knew it would happen.” She glanced at the ring on her left hand, two purple amethysts bracketed a single diamond. It wasn’t the ring she dreamt of as a girl, but she couldn’t have been more pleased to wear it. “A proposal is allowed to be a surprise, an engagement shouldn’t be.”





	The Family Stark

**Author's Note:**

> This is my gift for winterstellarly for the Jonsa Exchange, who asked for all the things I knew I could deliver, fluff, domestic goodness and babies on the way ahoy!

An uncharacteristically soft knock had Sansa stretching away from Lady’s warmth. She sat up blinking her eyes hard before she walked to let them in. Jon knew she was upset when she went to her childhood bedroom, but she wouldn’t expect him to knock on the door. Rickon started when she pulled the door back, taking in her bleary eyes and the rumpled sheets.

“Shit, Sans I didn’t mean to wake you.” His eyes darted down to her swelling belly, “mom said you needed your rest.”

Sansa sighed stepping to the side, letting him in, “I’m pregnant, not on my deathbed.”

“She’s just looking out for you, everyone is.” Rickon said gently. Sansa raised her brows at him, “don’t make your mom face at me, I’m too old to be scared by it anymore.” He sat next to her on the bed, and despite his last statement he leaned against her like he used to when he was a boy.

“The same could be said for you, you know.” Sansa murmured, “they’re just looking out for you.”

“Touché,” he lifted his eyes to look at her, “when did you know Jon was going to propose?”

Sansa smiled, “early, we started talking about it after our fourth date.” She twirled the ring on her finger. “He said he knew after the first, but he’s a bit of a romantic.”

“Says you,” She gave him a pinch for that.

“We dated for a while before we really talked about logistics.” Sansa continued, “we never talked about when it would happen. I always knew it would happen.” She glanced at the ring on her left hand, two purple amethysts bracketed a single diamond. It wasn’t the ring she dreamt of as a girl, but she couldn’t have been more pleased to wear it. “A proposal is allowed to be a surprise, an engagement shouldn’t be.”

Rickon nodded thoughtfully, “do you agree with them?” He started to chew on a nail, “is it too early for me to ask mom for a ring?”

Sansa ruffled his hair, “my opinion doesn’t matter, none of ours do really. It’s your life, and if you think Shireen’s the one, and she sees herself getting married to you then why not?” She paused, “none of us can really claim to have the best judgement all the time, especially not when it comes to love.”

“Arya and Gendry have been together for forever.” Sansa rolled her eyes.

“Arya wouldn’t admit to anything for years though, just because all of us knew doesn’t mean they were both aware of it.” She smoothed his hair, “Robb is always going to be worried because his first choice didn’t hold up the way he expected it to.”

“He’s happy with Myrcella now,”

“He is. It’s inevitable we compare ourselves to mom and dad, and I know Robb is sometimes disappointed that he jumped so quickly with Margaery. He doesn’t want you to have to go through all of that, only to realize she may not be for you.” She softens her voice, as though someone might overhear them in the privacy of her empty room, “he forgets that mom was engaged to uncle Brandon before she married dad.” She paused, “Since, Robb, Bran, and me took so long statistically speaking more than one of us should get it right on the first try, so you’re probably in good shape.”

“Thank you,” Rickon cringed when she ruffled his hair. “Do you want to talk about what’s got you down?”

Sansa shook her head, “it’s hormones,” she hesitated, “and maybe some things I should talk to Jon about before I bring them up to everyone.” She kissed his forehead, “I appreciate the offer though, now get back to your girlfriend, and if you see my husband send him along.”

No sooner was her youngest brother out of the door was Jon walking in. His shoulders hunched, mouth downturned with worry. He knelt before her, brow furrowed, “is everything alright?”

“Do you think I’m being ungrateful?” She urged him up and onto the bed, curving her body against his the best she could. She could feel the gentle glide of his fingers along her spine.

“I don’t.” he said softly, lips pressed to her forehead, “I don’t think you can expect them to know things unless you say something either.” 

“Some people don’t even announce the gender of their child, let alone what they plan the name to be.” She mumbled, “and some would consider it rude to purchase something that’s not on the registry without confirming it.”

“It’s a much sturdier option.” Jon countered, Sansa hit his shoulder with the heel of her palm. 

“It is not,” she insisted emphatically, “our option is beautiful, and you made it by hand,” she sniffed, feeling her eyes well with tears, “you made it for our child and it’s perfect.” His thumbs brushed back her tears. “Why do they all think this is their baby too?”

“I’m sure they don’t mean anything by it,” Jon insisted. “They’re excited, and trying to help.”

“I want to name him Arthur,” she said quickly, resting one hand over her belly “after your stepfather.”

“Sansa-“

“It means something, more than assigning him a random name from the Stark family tree,” she met his eyes, “he thinks of you as a son, enough to offer you a family ring when we got engaged.” Jon’s mouth trembled, but he nodded his agreement.

“He’ll be honored,” he kissed her softly, “thank you.” He ran his thumb over her ring before sitting up. He offered his open hand to her, hoisting her out of the bed to stand beside him. “Come on, we’ll go eat dinner with everyone, and then we’ll bring it up together.”

Sansa let him lead her out of the bedroom, and into the hall before asking, “do you wish we would have spent Christmas with your parents?”

“Not a chance,” Jon answered, “with everyone else here it’s much easier to divert the attention away from us.” He was teasing, but it still made her smile. “Only child, with the first grandkid on the way, nah, at least Bran’s PHD, and Rickon’s impending engagement can take the focus away sometimes.”

Sansa smiled, “maybe next year we should invite your parents too, baby’s first Christmas.”

“We’ll see how you’re feeling about that after this little guy arrives.” Jon smiled, “I’d love that though, all of us together. Next year though.”

“Next year,” she agreed. “But first, it’s time to face the music.”

…

The next morning it was hardly after seven when Sansa woke in her childhood bedroom. Jon’s side of the bed was empty, and neatly made up. She kicked her legs over the bed, shrugging trading her sleep tee for an oversized sweater, a pair of leggings, and slippers. The house was quiet, without even the click clack of the dogs on the floor, as she approached the kitchen the sounds of the coffee pot working, and bacon popping invited her in. 

Her mother moved around the kitchen with purpose, her loosely braided hair catching the rising sun as she walked to the sink. Sansa touched her identical braid and wondered if her child would have the same red hair. It brought a smile to her face to think on it, her feet led her into the kitchen where she wrapped an arm around her mom’s waist and rested her cheek on her shoulder. 

“Morning sweetheart,” Catelyn pressed a kiss to her temple, “did you sleep ok?” Sansa nodded, still leaning against her. “Jon’s been outside with your father shoveling since six thirty.”

“I’m not surprised,” Sansa laughed moving toward the coffee pot, looking past the glittery cup she had since she was sixteen and drinking coffee, to a smaller, festive looking mug. “Jon’s always loved one-on-one time with dad.” She set the mug down, letting it cool. “Do you need any help?”

“You don’t have to bother yourself, sit down. You don’t want to be on your feet for too long.” Sansa sighed, moving toward the stovetop anyway.

“You know better than anyone, I’m fully capable of helping in the kitchen in my current state.” She took the handle of the pan from her mom and stirred the eggs. Her mom moved easily across the space, sliding the toast into place, pulling the jam from the fridge, along with fresh fruit. 

The knife hit the cutting board rhythmically as Catelyn made up a fruit salad. “I owe you an apology Sansa,” her mom’s voice was soft. “I know how frightening it can be, and I only wanted to make things easier on you.” Sansa never doubted that for a moment, “we shouldn’t have assumed anything of course. Your father and I thought it would be nice to take one of the greater expenses out of the picture, and well it wasn’t right to assume you’d stick with a name you liked when you were a girl for the baby but you’ve always been so consistent.”

“We appreciate it all, really mom. I didn’t even know Jon was building the crib until last week.”

“He’s a good man,” Catelyn said from her place at the cutting board. “You’ve never given me anything to truly worry about now that you’re an adult. If only I could say the same about your brothers and sister, save for Bran.” Sansa gave her a sidelong glance. “Rickon has only been seeing this girl for a few months.”

“Jon knew after our first few dates. You said dad was the same.” She turned the heat down on the stove. “If Rickon’s making a good choice, or a bad one he has to do it on his own.” The back door opened then closed.

“You try to remember those words when that boy is an adult,” Catelyn gestured towards Sansa’s stomach, earning a smile.

“We all get to the right place in the end mama,” Sansa kissed her cheek and made her way into the mudroom where Jon and her father were discarding their snowy boots and heavy coats. As soon as Jon’s layers were removed he walked up to her, wrapped his arms around her waist and laughed when she squealed at his cold hands on her back. 

“Feeling better this morning?”

Sansa nodded, pulling back to press her warm hands to his cold cheeks. “Everything’s going to be fine.” A smile spread across his face, “as far as you and I are concerned. I don’t think there’s any stopping the meddling at the end of the day.” 

“We wouldn’t have it any other way, would we?”

“No, I suppose not.”


End file.
